


forgive me

by rabbitmarch



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Sibling Incest, your basic "don't like don't read" situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 23:53:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14031612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitmarch/pseuds/rabbitmarch
Summary: Iori has some unfamiliar urges.





	forgive me

**Author's Note:**

> hi probably don't read this if you don't like brother incest 
> 
> happy first post in the mitsu/iori tag yaaay hahahaha... ha...
> 
> ^_^;

Iori lays back against his pillows, struggling to find a position comfortable enough. He flips on his side once, then again on the other, then back to the first side again. His hands splayed still at his sides, it's practically unbearable to handle. Iori's dick strains half-hard under the fleece of his pajama bottoms, his eyes squeezed shut so tight that it hurts.

For the past who-knows-how-many nights, Iori has battled a primal urge he hasn't felt often before. He previously thought that only attention-starved, "average" teenagers got awkward boners at the most inconvenient of times, and for the most odd of reasons. Apparently, Iori was just that kind of attention-starved average teenager. That wasn't the worst of it, though, Iori thought it was bad enough erecting against his will at night, at least then no one could see him, but he's also felt needlessly horny in the middle of practice, specifically when he watches his beloved brother attempt to perfect his kicks and twirls.

It was normal, right? Teens popped boners all the time for absolutely no reason, right? It has nothing to do with the fact that Mitsuki's sweat-stained skin glistens against the dim light of the practice room, that his ass bounces every time he jumps to do a turn, that his gentle panting echoes ever so slightly in the emptiness of the practice room as he finishes his work in progress performanceー

Or, maybe, it is specifically, all of those things. The denial Iori has that he is, indeed, lusting for his brother is overwhelming; he can't _possibly_ want Mitsuki like that. He certainly does _not_  wish that Nii-san was here right now, guiding Iori's pants down with his thumbs, whispering to him that Iori is _so_ dirty for being horny for his own flesh and blood.

Or, again, maybe he really does, because Iori throws resistance out the window at that last little dreamy thought, and tugs down his pajamas, just as he imagines Nii-san would. Embarrassment and shame burns at the tips of Iori's ears as he props himself up against the pillows, sliding his pants down until they pop softly over his dick, revealing it to his otherwise empty bedroom.

"Ah," he gasps, quiet as he can when his stiffening dick hits the stagnant air. He's not sure where to go from here; sure, he's masturbated before, but the intensity he's already feeling due to his incredible imagination picturing Mitsuki hovering above him, legs straddled on either side of Iori's hips, is unlike anything he's felt before. Again, the thought alone strikes him directly in the dick, twitching as Iori's shaky hand draws near. He gives an experimental rub against the head, breathing slow as he thumbs the slit of his cock. Except, suddenly, it isn't him touching himself. It's Mitsuki, and Mitsuki is looking at him as if he were an entree, eyes half lidded and wanting in Iori's imagination.

"Ghhー" Iori bites on his lip, careful not to let any brotherly nicknames slip out of his mouth. He can moan, quietly, that's fine, but moaning a name is too much. It makes it too real.

He pictures himself in Mitsuki's lap, back against his chest. Iori's taller, of course, but Mitsuki seems to find a way to make them sit comfortably together. One of his brother's arms is wrapped snugly around Iori's waist, one is teasing Iori's inner thigh. Mitsuki's fingers dance across his skin, tantalizing in their effort to make their way to Iori's thrumming cock.

In reality, Iori is splayed back against his bed, hand ever-so-slightly gripping his aching member. He closes his eyes as he pumps once, twice, and then he hears a voice in his head, not his own.

_Iori, does it feel good?_

He jolts when he imagines the sweetly sinful words sliding off Mitsuki's tongue. What would Mitsuki say, in a situation like this? Iori thinks he would try to act manly, dominant, to take control of Iori and make him pliant in his hands. As much as Iori hates to admit it, that's exactly what he would beーpudding in Nii-san's grasp.

He can hear Mitsuki's soft-spoken words of encouragement ringing in his ears. _It's okay. I've got you, alright? Just relax and let Nii-chan make you feel good._

In his mind, Mitsuki is gentle, loving, and concentrated in his strokes. At the same time, though, he's relentless, headstrong, burning. The image in Iori's head is so vivid and strong, lost so deep in his fantasy, that it feels like Mitsuki is really there with him.

Iori readjusts his grip, tightening his fist around his cock in the way he imagines Mitsuki might. His dick aches and burns as he lets his eyelids fall shut, tipping his head back slightly. Iori's own fingers slowly become Mitsuki's, soft, petite, and ample, as he gets more and more lost in this sinful scenario he's played out in his mind.

_Iori, you're so cute. You want your Nii-chan so badly, don't you? Don't be shy, tell me what it is you want._

Iori's breath hitches as he pumps harder, fasterーneeding, aching for Mitsuki. His dream-self tells Mitsuki he wants him, that he's always wanted him, that lately he's been so head-over-heels, slit-his-own-throat horny for him that Nii-san is all he can ever think about.

_A-ah, really? That bad, huh? Do you want me to fuck you, Iori? Does my cute, cute little brother need Nii-san's cock inside of him?_

Despite Iori knowing those words from dream-Mitsuki's mouth are far too big for real-Mitsuki, they still sting and make his cock grow in his hand, drops of pre-cum leaking from the slit. Iori stills his hand for a second, switching position. He throws himself on the bed, chest against the mattress, ass raised high in the air. A pillow is close enough to his face that he's able to muffle his needy, overeager moans into it, and bite it, if need be. Hesitantly releasing his hard dick, Iori moves his hand from between his legs to the crease of his backside, sliding down until he can rub two fingers against the pucker of his hole.

_I-Iori, putting yourself on display like that... jeez, you're getting me all excited now._

Iori brings his hand up to his face, sliding two fingers into his hot, wet mouth. He licks and sucks on them, saliva dripping from his chin as he imagines, of course, they are not his own, but Mitsuki's. Throwing previous hesitation away, Iori moans as he withdraws saliva-covered fingers from his mouth.

"N... nii-san..."

Oh, that doesn't sound normal at all.

His voice is foreign in his own throat, the familiar, innocent nickname tainted with his filthy, lust-coated endeavors. But it excites him, and it excites dream-Mitsuki, too.

Sliding his wet fingers back again to the crevice of his ass, Iori's breath is unsteady when he pushes two digits beyond the tight ring of his asshole.

"H...hah..."

_Ahh, Iori, this place really wants it... you're so tight back here, has no one ever fucked you properly before? Am I gonna get to take my little brother's virginity?_

The vivid, yet imaginary words thrum against Iori's ear drums, pounding in his head, pounding in his neglected cock. HeーMitsukiーbegins to thrust his fingers in and out, leaving Iori's needy hole a little looser each time. With no lube, it's difficult for Iori to get very far, but at this rate, he doesn't think he'll need to go as deep as he can to get the desired result. He curls his fingers to his best effort, and barely brushes over his prostate, eliciting a long, drawn out string of gasps from Iori's throat.

"N-nii-san, please, o-oh please..." Iori babbles as he curves his fingers once more. His legs shiver and ache under him, as well as his cock, still hard and dripping fluid onto the comforter. Iori'sーMitsuki'sーfingers become his dick, hard and delving deep into Iori's ass. He imagines Mitsuki digging his blunt fingernails into his hips, dragging Iori's ass back into him as Mitsuki meets him into even thrusts. He imagines Mitsuki, sweat dripping from his forehead as he pushes back his bangs to get a good look at his cock sliding in and out of his brother's hole. He imagines Mitsuki, breathless and panting as he drapes himself over Iori, hands grasping under to get handfuls of Iori's chest, relentless fingers pinching and prodding at his nipples. He, finally, imagines Mitsuki's hands traveling from his chest downward, one gripping his terribly hard cock, pumping him in all his hot-headed intensity as he breathes filthy, yet encouraging words into Iori's ear.

"Nnh, hah, Nii-san... I'm s-soー"

_Shh, you're close, I know. You can cum, okay? Go on, cum for your Nii-chan._

Everything hits him at once, Iori's violent orgasm ripping through his body like a hurricane, seemingly endless and intense. His panicked gasps echo throughout the room, and as he milks the last drops of cum from his exhausted dick, Iori lets himself fall flat on his belly, blankets wet and slightly sticky underneath him.

Minutes pass as Iori recovers, and as he blinks and breathes his last heavy breath, the entirety of his fantasy is gone. Reality hits him like a brick, and he feels instant shame. He quickly hikes his pajama bottoms back up and hides his reddened face in a pillow.

"Forgive me, Nii-san," Iori muffles into the pillowcase as he falls into a deep sleep. Before he closes his eyes he makes a mental note to wash his blankets, and to never mention any of this to anyone.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanna fucken kill myself


End file.
